


There's Never Enough Time

by HR4



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Death, F/M, Gen, Love, Other, Romance, Science Fiction, Second Chances, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HR4/pseuds/HR4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post S10 AU fic. Harry sits alone on Christmas day, wondering how he can cope without the love of his life. Then he mysteriously has a second chance to change the past, and help Ruth to overcome her tragic end. Sci fi overtones, but will be romance through out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**25th December 2011 1:03am** _

Time had ticked on by and another Christmas day had come. Harry sat in his arm chair, a glass of whisky in his right hand. He was coming to rely on the drink these days, even though he knew it was a slippery slope. She was dead. She was gone. She was buried in some cold graveyard in Devon. And there was nothing he could do to make things right. It was far, far too late. Her face came into his mind of the last time he'd seen her. Happy and alive. Alive in all senses of the word. Then Sasha had… Harry shied away from even the thought of it. He couldn't contemplate it. Forming the words, even in his thoughts made them true. The rational part of himself knew that he was in denial, even though she'd… left him two months ago.

Harry turned to the whisky glass and it was empty. When had that happened? He poured some more from his decanter and took another large sip. He knew perfectly well that Ruth would hate him doing this to himself. Drinking himself into oblivion, but it was the only way he ever managed to drift into any kind of sleep. And it was hardly like she was here to stop him after all. Harry kept thinking of her as he kept drinking. The ache of her loss, especially when they'd come so close to having what they'd both wanted for so long.

Those thoughts were still whizzing around his head when he fell into the first deep sleep he'd had since Ruth had died.

* * *

 

He awoke in a complete haze, totally confused as his mind tried to catch up. He stood up, his back almost creaking in protest at the night spent in his arm chair. That's when a file of papers slid to the floor, scattering pages everywhere. He picked them up out of habit and organised them back into the file. It took a moment for his eyes to connect with his brain, and for him to make sense of the papers. No, this couldn't be right. This was from the enquiry into his MI5 career nearly five months ago. These were the beginnings of the defence that himself and… Ruth had been organising. Why had that file been on his lap? He hadn't touched it since his name had been cleared, and he was almost positive it had remained within a locked drawer in Thames House.

He frowned and put the file on the coffee table. He stretched and looked at the decanter. It was full. He took the stopper off and breathed in the aroma. Yes, definitely whisky. A 12 year old Macallan from the smell of it. He knew he'd had a bit to drink last night, or more than a bit really. How could it be full? How long had he been sleeping for? Had he missed some days? Or maybe he'd drunk so much that he had blacked out his memory, he thought darkly.

Coffee would fix it. Yes. He was in his hallway when the letterbox rattled. Today's newspaper had been dropped off and fallen onto his doormat. Scarlett ran towards it, yapping excitedly as Harry bent to pick it up. He rarely read the paper these days. He just glanced at the cover to be sure the world was still standing and London hadn't been bombed while he slept.

His eyes were stinging with tiredness and he knew they'd be bloodshot without even looking in a mirror. He switched the kettle on, looked at the headline and frowned. No. That couldn't be right. The headline was about Amy Winehouse's death… this had to be an old paper. Yes. He looked at the date which read 25th July 2011. A very old paper then. Why had that been dropped off to him today? He shrugged, feeling incredibly confused as the kettle boiled. Maybe he was simply becoming unhinged by Ruth's loss. That was probably the most rational explanation.

Making himself coffee, he groaned as he felt the muscles in his back begin to stretch and wake up. He felt old today. Old, tired and ill. His doorbell rang and he sighed. He wasn't up for company today. Maybe he wouldn't be ever again. He ignored it, but then it rang a second time. Harry sighed, and went to answer it, hoping whoever it was would just go away quickly and not bother him with a long conversation. Or even worse, a request to come inside and bother him from his depression.

Then he opened the door. Ruth. She stood there on his doorstep, clear as day. He froze and stared at her. She was really in front of him. Her shoulder length hair blowing gently in the breeze, her wise intelligent eyes watching him. It really was her. She stood on his doorstep, files in her hands as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't had a shard of glass puncture her lung. As if she'd never been stabbed in the first place. Was he hallucinating? He had to be. Then she spoke.

"Harry, I have the files you wanted to prepare for the inquiry," she said, indicating the bundle in her arms. "Can I…" She didn't get any further, because Harry had fainted, falling onto the hall carpet.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth looked at him, in a dead faint on the floor. Not exactly how she'd expected to find him. There was no possibility that she could lift him, so she walked around his figure on the floor, closed the door and crouched next to his head, waiting for him to come around. "Harry?" she hesitated for a moment before putting her hand on his head in what she hoped would be a comforting gesture.

It took about a minute for his eyes to flutter open, and when they did she reluctantly stopped touching him. "I didn't expect to find you collapsed in a heap on your doorstep," she said.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a quiet hush.

"We arranged to meet," she said. "To talk about the inquiry. Don't you remember?" His eyes were wide as he sat up, one hand against his temple. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"The inquiry?"

"Yes," she said, worry clouding over her face at the look of shock he was giving her. "Do you remember the Albany fiasco?" she asked softly.

"Yes, of course," he said. "I think… I'm not feeling well."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" He spoke so urgently that she looked at him in surprise. The silence became uncomfortable very quickly, especially as he was watching her with such a strong intensity.

"Harry, what's going on?" she asked quietly.

"What's the date?" he asked.

"Er… July 25th 2011," she said. "Harry, you're worrying me."

"No, its just…" He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stood up and walked into his kitchen, feeling dazed. Ruth followed him, a little wary of his behaviour. This wasn't the Harry she was used to.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked as Harry looked at her. "You're looking at me… like… I don't know."

"I seem to have been… hallucinating," he said. "It's really July?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm here… we've got to get to work on preparing your defence for the inquiry Harry. Or should I leave while you… pull yourself together."

"Don't go," he said, trying to hide the pleading in his voice. "Do you want a drink?"

"Tea," she said. "Please." Harry made her drink in silence, his eyes flicking towards the date on the newspaper every so often, as if reconfirming that he really was in July rather than December. His hands shook slightly as he stirred sugar into her mug while thinking. Or attempting to think. This was insane. Where had Christmas day gone? Oh, to hell with that, why was Ruth sitting at his kitchen table when he'd held her as she died in his arms. This was… insane.

"I think I should leave," she said, speaking from behind him while Harry tried to figure out what had gone wrong. Or gone right as the case may be, now that Ruth was… here. "So you have time to… sober up."

"I'm not drunk," he said turning around. "I promise you."

"You just seem… strange," Ruth said.

"I know." Harry handed her the mug and she smiled her thanks, seeming a little wary of him. He couldn't blame her, he must be behaving rather randomly. Harry took a deep breath, determined not to waste this precious time. Whether it was a hallucination, a dream or the slim chance that this might actually be reality, he couldn't afford to waste any time with her. "Will you have dinner with me tonight?" he asked.

Her eyes widened at the unexpected question. They both knew what was between them but it always remained unspoken, and she was more than a little surprised to have him say anything at all. Let alone a dinner invitation. "I can't," she said with reluctance.

"Oh." He looked down at the floor in disappointment. "I understand."

"No, I want to," she said. "But I cant. You're not supposed to be having contact with anyone from the grid until the inquiry clears you. We can't be seen out together."

"Oh. Of course," he said. Harry had forgotten this and she could tell that he was relieved she wasn't saying no because she didn't want to. "But you managed to be here today." The hint of a question was there and she smiled again.

"I may be a desk spook," she said with disdain at the term. "But I've been working for you long enough to pick up some tips and avoid detection. I need to be at work in an hour and we've got time before your babysitters arrive. And I altered the CCTV they're watching so it doesn't show me arriving."

"Okay," he said. "How about fish and chips tonight. We'll eat in. If you'd like."

She paused for a moment, taking a sip of tea to buy herself some time. When she lowered her mug, he saw that she was smiling and he felt a lessening of tension in his stomach.

"Okay," she said. "That'd be nice. I'll pick up dinner though."

"No, don't be…"

"I insist," she said. "I'm less likely to be followed and there's a great little fish and chip shop I like that make the tastiest chips in the world."

"Okay," he said, relenting. "Later tonight then."

"Mm," she agreed, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling at him. He smiled back, choosing for the moment to forget the impossibility of this moment, instead dedicate it to memorising Ruth's face exactly.

"Harry, you're watching me," she said nervously.

"Sorry," he said. "Thank you for the files."

"There should be information to help," she said. "I'll smuggle some more files out tonight. Let you have a read of them. Similar cases or charges to yours."

"Great," he said. He wanted to kiss her, but if this was really July… if this was really happening, it was too soon. And if he were hallucinating, he didn't want to do anything to break this wonderful dream. Unfortunately fate intervened. Ruth's phone rang and Harry knew she'd have to go back to the grid. After a very brief conversation she looked at him apologetically.

"I have to go."

"Are you going to be late tonight?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said. "I'll text you, to let you know."

"However late it is, you're still welcome here," he said. He knew he sounded a little desperate, but wasn't that the truth? He was desperate. To see her for a little longer. For as long as he could.

"Okay," she said. "Bye Harry." He almost held his breath as she turned and left his house. Within a minute it was as if she'd never been here. Except for the half drunk tea and the scent of roses in the air, he could have dreamt the whole thing. Maybe he had, because the alternative was unrealistic and impossible. He breathed in deeply, and could feel his heart racing. When he stopped shaking he made a decision. He went upstairs to his office and opened his laptop. As soon as he could, he went online to check the date. July 25th 2011. 7:43 and a handful of seconds.

Harry watched in silence as the seconds ticked away, simply staring at his computer screen. The clock reached 7:58 before he actually moved. He checked his latest emails to Catherine and read them. She was in Paris on her honeymoon. Which she had been in July. Which is where she currently was, Harry reminded himself, beginning to actually appreciate that this might be happening.

Of course it would happen to him. A man who believes in nothing beyond what he can see and touch. He didn't believe in anything other worldly at all. Not ghosts, not spirits, not life after death, however comforting that might have been with Ruth over the last few weeks. He hadn't believed in Santa when he was a child. He didn't even believe in God. So how could this be happening to him?


	3. Chapter 3

Ruth stifled a yawn as she shut her computer down. Seven o'clock in the evening and she was getting off of work. That wasn't bad, all things considered. She sent Harry a text to his second phone which couldn't be traced to say she was on her way.

"How is he?" Ruth looked up, instinctively tucking her phone in her pocket. But she relaxed when she saw it was only Tariq. "Harry," he said, as if there was any doubt. "I know you're seeing him."

"I think he's okay," Ruth said. "He was behaving… strangely this morning. But I think he was just hung over. He'd clearly slept in what he was wearing." Ruth was speaking to herself really, but that hadn't occurred to her until she'd thought about it. His shirt had been incredibly creased and he looked bedraggled. Turning her attention to Tariq, she smiled. "He's good," she said.

"Good," Tariq said. "I want him back as our boss. I'm not fond of Erin."

"He wants to be back," Ruth said. "I have to go," she added as her phone buzzed in her pocket with a reply. "I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, she got up, and left the grid, heading to her favourite chippy. She was looking forward to tonight.

* * *

 

Harry's day had been highly stressful for a man who'd done little of value. He'd completely ignored the files Ruth had brought over, as the inquiry wasn't the problem at the moment. He had bigger things to worry about. He'd taken Scarlet for a walk, and decided that due to the heat, it most certainly was not December. Apart from that, he'd spent his time wondering how this could have happened. He entertained every possibility, logical and very illogical. This was hardly a rational situation after all. He even wondered if he'd dreamed Ruth's death. But no. He couldn't have. He could still feel his hand staunching her wound. The warm blood rushing from her body and over his fingers as she spluttered for breath and he prayed for help which didn't come in time. No. He hadn't dreamt that. His imagination was neither that realistic or vivid.

When he received Ruth's text he felt both relief, and a lessening of the dreadful tension that had taken residence in his stomach. He really had seen her that morning, and he'd be seeing her again shortly. That was such a relief that it made him dizzy.

It wasn't long before there was a light knock on his kitchen door. He opened it and saw a windblown Ruth on his doorstep. "Not the front door?"

"You're still being watched," she said simply. "I felt it was safer. Hungry?"

"Starving," he agreed. The scent of chips that had followed her in was delicious. "Would you like some wine?"

Ruth paused for a moment but then nodded. "Have you got white?"

"Chilling in the fridge," he said. He neglected to mention that he'd also opened a bottle of red wine to breathe, in case she fancied that instead. He opened the door and uncorked it, pouring two glasses as Ruth unwrapped their meals. "Oh that smells good," he said.

"Yes, I'm really hungry," she said, taking a glass of wine. "Oh, that's a good sauvignon blanc." Harry smiled at her as she took her coat off and sat down, looking more beautiful than he'd ever remembered.

* * *

 

Their meals were finished surprisingly quickly, and Ruth sighed with happiness at a full stomach. "You haven't eaten today have you?" Harry asked, topping their wine glasses up.

"You know me too well," she said. "I get distracted by work and forget lunch. But that was really good."

"Yes," he agreed.

"Unfortunately, I think we should get to work," she said. "We need to go through the information. Now, you can do it on your own, but I thought I'd… help."

"If we have to," he said reluctantly. He didn't want to work when he had Ruth in his house drinking wine. Work was the last thing he wanted to do, especially as he didn't know how much time he had with her. He had to assume this was real after all. She rolled her eyes slightly, and he knew he had no choice if he wanted her to stay. "I'll get the files."

Several hours later Ruth was beginning to look beautifully tired. Harry couldn't stop watching her as she highlighted sections of paperwork and pointed out issues that meant Harry didn't have a case to answer to. She looked breathtaking. Her hair was framing her face, no matter how often she pushed it back and she kept pinching the bridge of her nose with tiredness. He knew she wouldn't stop until she fell asleep at the table and felt unworthy of her faith and the trust that she had in him.

At eleven in the evening, Harry stopped her, closing the file she was currently reading. She looked up in surprise. "I think that's enough work for tonight," he said. She looked at her watch, then nodded.

"You might be right."

"Mm," Harry said, looking at the empty wine bottle. "Shall I open another?"

"I really shouldn't," she said. "I want to ask you something." The tone caught his attention, and he knew this was important. So he nodded, silently asking her to continue. "Why? Why did you trade Albany for my life?" He took in a deep breath, preparing his answer. "I mean, you couldn't know that Lucas would keep his word, and even putting that aside, it was committing treason to do it." He tilted his head slightly, eyes bright. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did. I didn't want to die," she added in a small voice.

"Ruth, your life is worth more than my career," he said simply and quietly. "Why wouldn't I have traded something physically worthless, even if it were illegal, for your life?"

She smiled at him, but then bit her lip. "What would you have done… had Albany been functional?"

"Probably the same," he said. "Albany was never going to be used, Ruth. If it were real, whichever government or country had it, it would never have been used. The fear… that's what it would have created."

"You can't know that Harry," she said.

"No. I can't. But in the moment and on the day, I'd probably have been selfish rather than selfless. I couldn't allow you to die when I could have so easily stopped it. But I am glad that that terrible choice wasn't given to me to make."

"Mm," she said. "Me too. I couldn't live with that on my conscience Harry."

Silence descended on the room, and all Ruth could hear was the ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. "I should probably go home," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

"Yes," he agreed. It was late after all and she would be at work tomorrow. "Let me call you a taxi."

"Okay," she said, not arguing with him. He nodded and got up to find the number, then quickly calling through. Ruth only overheard half the conversation but she wasn't paying an awful lot of attention. She was wondering what Harry's lips would feel like against hers, and whether he'd kiss her goodnight. She badly wanted him to.

She stood up, intending to make a move, most likely emboldened by wine.  
"It'll be here in ten minutes," Harry said, coming back into the room. "And my minders have vanished, so you're more than welcome to use the front door if you…" he was silenced as she kissed him. He closed his eyes as his arms wrapped around her back, out of instinct. She drew back far too soon, looking at him nervously. He smiled and leaned in, kissing her again. He flicked his tongue over her lips and she opened her mouth, more than willing. She let out a quiet little moan that had him putting his hands on her hips and pulling her firmly against him before he'd even put thought into it. But she didn't seem to mind that her breasts were pushing against his chest. The very opposite and he felt her fingers entwining with his hair.

The kiss went on and on, and Ruth kept making small moans of pleasure that had Harry fighting the urge to carry her upstairs to bed and make love to her all night long.

Ruth pulled away from him and he looked at her in confusion. "My taxi's here," she said breathlessly.

"How can you tell?"

"Didn't you hear him beep the horn?"

"No," he said honestly. She smiled at him and slipped her coat on.

"I'll see you soon." She reached for him and kissed his cheek before vanishing into the night. Harry put his fingers to his lips, feeling her kiss there. He wasn't imagining it. Not any of this. He'd really gone back and Ruth was still alive. He was going to do his damnedest to make sure it stayed that way.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day Harry didn't see Ruth all day, and he fought hard to stave off the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He spent most of the day working on the report of Ruth's many qualities and how many terror attacks she'd averted in her time at MI5. He'd already written it once before, so it didn't take deep thinking power, but enough to keep him distracted. He did call her in the evening though. He couldn't not call her.

"What?" she said when she answered, sounding very tired, which made Harry immediately feel guilty for calling. Not guilty enough to leave her alone to sleep. With all the events that would unfold over the next few months, he couldn't leave her alone. Not if it all happened again and his chances of ever speaking to her once again vanished.

"Hi," he said. "Did I wake you?"

"Not really," she said. "Just glad it's not a red flash." He could hear the relief in her voice and he smiled.

"I only wanted to make sure you were okay," he said.

"I'm fine," she said. "How's your defence going?"

"Slowly," he replied. "I'm not worried about the inquiry." There was a pause, Ruth not speaking so he continued. "Are you?"

"Yes," she said. "Very. What if it goes badly? What if you're sacked? Or worse, they decide to try you for treason!"

"It won't come to that," he said surely. "They don't dare throw me in prison because I know too much. Losing my job is a possibility, but like I told you yesterday, your life is worth more than my job."

Ruth sighed heavily, and he wanted to say something to comfort her but nothing came to mind. "How was work?"

"I hate extremists," she said simply and Harry laughed lightly.

"I don't think they're there to make your job easier," he said.

"No, of course not," she said. "But I have to sift through some of their handiwork and… it wasn't pleasant today." Harry didn't press her, knowing that she'd confide in him if she wanted to. Which, about thirty seconds of silence later, she did. "I spent all of today going through reports of torture, hospital reports on the victims, coroners reports and photographs. It's not been fun."

"Do you want me to come over?" he asked softly. He knew that he'd never have made this offer if he hadn't experienced Ruth… dying, but he had. And his reticence and self control when it came to her didn't seem as important.

"No Harry," she said, and he could tell she was smiling. "I've dealt with this before, I probably will again, and I'm a big girl. It just… gets me down after a while."

"Understandably," he said. "How is Erin Watts doing?"

"I don't like her," Ruth said predictably. "But then, I probably wouldn't like anyone sitting in your office, lording it over us poor employees."

"Is that how you saw me when I was sat there?" he asked, feeling a little hurt.

"Of course not," Ruth said. "You… well, got your hands dirty," she said. "You wanted to be involved in operational decisions, and were willing to take your share of the blame, should things go wrong. She just… sits and pushes paper clips around on your desk."

Harry smiled at that description. "I'll be back there soon enough," he said.

"I hope so," she replied. "It's really not the same without you." Harry felt his heart stop for a moment. This was perhaps the most honest conversation they'd ever had.

"I want to take you out to dinner," he said. "Saturday night?"

"Can you lose your tails?" she asked after a moments hesitation. "Because I'd like to go out with you, but I don't want any extra unexpected guests."

"I'll lose them," he said firmly. "So, is that a yes?"

"Yes," she said. "Saturday then."

Harry could feel the conversation drawing to it's natural conclusion, so he said something he'd been thinking about. "Ruth, can you promise me something without asking any questions?"

"What?"

"There's some abandoned nuclear shelters in Norfolk," he said. "A remnant from the cold war years."

"Yes, I know where they are," she said.

"Promise me you won't go there," he said urgently. "Not for any reason."

"Why?" she asked, clearly confused. "Why would I go there?"

"Please," he replied. "Just stay away."

"Okay, fine," she said. "If it's that important to you, I'll leave it alone. I don't have any desire to go there anyway."

"Good," Harry said fervently.

"There's no point me asking why is there?" she said.

"No. Sorry."

"Okay," she replied, surprisingly calm.

"You're not arguing?" he said.

"I know you, Harry. You don't ask me to do things, or not do them in this case without a reason. Just because you're not sharing that reason with me doesn't mean it's unimportant."

"Well, thank you for trusting me," he said, voice soft as velvet.

"I'll see you on Saturday then," she said.

"Absolutely. Good night Ruth."

"Night Harry."

Ruth put the phone down and looked at it in slight confusion. What was Harry talking about? Why would she suddenly get the urge to go to Norfolk? To visit an abandoned shelter? It was more than a little odd. Not the strangest thing he'd asked her over the years while working for him, but it came close. She shrugged and rolled over in bed, intending to go to sleep. After all, she was sure that Harry had his reasons.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry smoothed his light blue shirt down, feeling both nervous and excited about tonight. He couldn't wait to spend a night with Ruth that was away from terrorists, and in a totally social setting, as opposed to work. Also, he wasn't entirely sure how long he had with this… strange situation so he wanted to make the most of it. Especially if he woke up, and Ruth was dead, or he was unable to prevent what would happen in only a few short weeks.

He checked his appearance in the mirror again, wanting everything to be perfect for tonight, before he picked up his keys and left the house. His car was about half a mile away as he wanted to make sure that his followers thought he was still in the house, or at the very least, lose his tails.

* * *

 

Ruth had changed her outfit at least a dozen times, which was ridiculous. Harry had seen her for years, her choice of dress wouldn't change his long held opinion of her. Which had to be good, she thought to herself. Otherwise he wouldn't have wanted to spend time with her. After everything that had happened, or not happened between them as the case may be, this was a good development. Things between them were usually unspoken, and only experienced in subtle changes in the atmosphere between them. But this was different. And very good.

"Oh to hell with it," she said. She slipped into her black dress, which she'd been debating on wearing. She'd bought it about a year ago, but never worn it, as it was a dress for a special occasion. Which occasion could be more special than going out to dinner with Harry? So she pulled the zip up and looked in the mirror. It was much more revealing than anything she'd worn in about a decade. Knee length and figure hugging, with thin straps over her shoulders. She bit her lip and wondered if she was too old to pull it off. While thinking about it, she put her heels on and then the doorbell rang before she could think her outfit through any further. It would be Harry, and she'd run out of time. She hurried to answer it, and when she did, she found Harry, smiling at her. His face froze as he looked at her, eyes going slowly over her figure. His eyes ran over her with such intensity that she blushed, and started to reconsider her dress.

"You look…" his eyes returned to hers, glowing with intensity. "Incredible."

"Thank you," she said, smiling back. "You don't look too bad yourself." In fact, he looked very good in a pristine open necked shirt and a dark jacket. She loved how he looked without a tie, and she wished she saw him more often like that. Maybe today was the start.

* * *

 

Ruth stayed silent on the journey back to her flat. They had had a delicious dinner, and she felt both full, happy and very content. They'd discussed normal things that normal people talked about. Books, films, travel and all the wonderfully frivolous things in life. They'd avoided talking about politics or anything at all that might have made the news recently, including terrorism. They also by an unspoken agreement avoided mentioning the upcoming inquiry. Neither of them wanted to taint the evening with that unpleasantness.

"Harry, that meal was incredible," she said. "Thank you."

"And you're beautiful and intelligent company to share it with," he said, catching her eye briefly, before looking back at the road. He seemed more happy and relaxed than she'd ever seen him and it was startling and enjoyable to get this insight into the personal Harry, rather than the professional one. He parked outside her flat and turned to her. The streetlights were illuminating the car, so he could still see her face. "Tonight was wonderful."

"Yes," she said. "It really was." Somehow, with neither of them being aware of who'd moved first, they ended up kissing each other. Harry stroked her cheek gently, fingers ending up in her hair as his tongue pressed against her full lips. She opened her mouth with a sigh of pleasure, her fingertips softly caressing his neck.  
They broke apart for air and he could see Ruth's eyes, bright and he wanted her.

"I'm not going to invite you in," she said, her voice low and almost seductive, in contrast with her words.

"Oh?" he asked, keeping his voice purposefully neutral.

"I want to," she said. "But, I'm not going to. I want… I need time." Harry must have looked at her with disappointment, regret or something similar because she looked at him and the warmth in her eyes had vanished in an instant. The atmosphere in the car had changed within a moment and it now felt cold. "Is that… is that all this is?" she asked, and he could tell she was hurt from the tone of her voice. "You just want sex?"

"Ruth, no," he said, but the damage had been done.

"I thought we were having a wonderful evening, and all the time you were wondering whether you were going to sleep with me tonight?"

"Ruth, let me explain…"

"No," she said forcefully. "I…" She sighed heavily. "Goodnight Harry," she said coldly. She left the car, and vanished into her flat within moments. Harry stared at her empty doorway, wishing he had thought of something to say that would have made her stay and listen. Because it hadn't been the fact that she'd said no to sex that had made him react like that, it was the fact that she'd told him that she needed "more time." And that terrified him, because time was something that he didn't have to give.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry had had a restless night, tossing and turning. He wanted to call Ruth and explain. But he knew she'd be more reasonable after she had some time to calm down, so as much as it annoyed him, he waited. At around lunchtime, he went over to her house. She didn't have the option of hanging up on him if he saw her in person. He didn't really expect her too, she might be upset and hurt, but she wasn't childish, but he was covering all of his options, just in case.

He pressed the intercom to her flat and waited. "Yes?"

"It's Harry," he said. "I want to speak to you." Silence, which wasn't promising. "Ruth, I'll wait here all day if I have to, I need to talk to you."

"Come on up," she said, letting him in. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the first obstacle being overcome. Then he gave himself a shake, because this wasn't a game. Not by a long shot.

He knocked on the door of her flat, and she opened it quickly, moving aside to let him in. She wore pyjama trousers and a baggy jumper. She was clearly having a lazy Sunday, and he felt a brief stab of guilt for ruining it. Only a tiny bit though.

"What is it?" she asked. Harry noted in the back of his mind that she hadn't offered him a drink, so she was still angry.

"Last night was not what you assumed," he said.

"You looked…" she paused, trying to think of the right word. "Let down and disappointed. Very disappointed. And I probably overreacted, but I don't like to think of… being used like that."

"That was never my intention," he said firmly. "And it was never about sex either."

"Then why did you react like that?" she asked quietly.

Harry bit his lip, but then decided on the truth. Or part of it, at least. Because the genuine truth was unbelievable. "It was when you said time," he said. "And I'm frightened."

"Of what?" she asked confused.

"Ruth, we've wasted so much time. I'm afraid that… that we're going to run out of it."

"Harry…" she said quietly. This was so unlike him, to admit fear over anything that it softened her heart. "Why now? What's changed to two months ago? Two years?"

"I nearly lost you," he said. "You could have died with Lucas and… that has made me realise what's important."

"Harry, that doesn't make a lot of sense."

"With the job we do, our tomorrows are never guaranteed. And when you said you needed more time, I panicked. Just for a moment, and that's what you saw on my face. It doesn't have to be rational Ruth, it was how I felt at the time. I wasn't using you."

Ruth sighed heavily and then let a small smile appear on her face. "That's good to hear," she said. "You could have called you know."

"I didn't want you to hang up on me," he admitted.

"I was upset, I'm not immature."

"Because storming out of the car before I can explain is rational," he said pointedly.

"Harry… I've been used like that before, and I won't do it again," she said. "Do you want some tea?"

He was thrown slightly by the abbrupt change in conversation, but then nodded, grateful for her acceptance. "Thank you."

* * *

 

"How long?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, wondering what she was asking him. They'd spent a few hours together, talking quietly and enjoying each others company, and Harry really hadn't wanted to leave. Which was good, as Ruth showed no signs of wanting him to go either. At the moment they were sitting on the sofa, Ruth resting her head against his chest as he stroked her hair lightly, listening to the rain hammering down on the window. It was actually turning into a highly pleasant Sunday afternoon. "How long until the inquiry?"

"A couple of weeks," he said darkly. It was a waste of his time, to be preparing for it, when he knew that his defence would be worthless, as they'd ignore it, and pointless in the end, because the Russians were coming to London, so he'd be reinstated. The Russians, he remembered with the effect of ice slipping into his stomach. An event he couldn't stop from happening, but he hoped to God the ending would be changed. That he could somehow change it.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Ruth said, interpreting the dark look on his face.

"It'll be fine," he said, making an effort to lighten things. "Your research has helped."

"I'm worried," she said. "Thames House isn't… Thames House without you." He caught her eyes and saw the meaning behind her words. That she was frightened he'd be found guilty and be forced to retire. He wouldn't be put in prison, because he knew too much.

"Whatever they say, I'm not going to stop seeing you." She smiled happily at that.

"By the way, how have you lost your tails?"

"Malcolm's rigged the electrics in my house," Harry said. "Every now and then a light will go on or off, and the radio will be switched on. They still think I'm there."

"Okay," she said. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the touch of Harry's fingers sliding through her hair.

He didn't want to break the moment, but he knew he had to. "Even with that, I should get back," he said.

"I know," she said softly, without moving. After a minute, she turned towards him and touched his face gently. She smiled, then moved to kiss him. He let her and before long they were horizontal on the sofa, Ruth laid on top of him, his hands roaming her back gently as they kept kissing each other.

"I really should go," Harry breathed, but making no effort to get up. Instead he smiled at her as she closed her lips on his yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More when I've decided where it's going. Thanks for reading so far.


	7. Chapter 7

Before Harry knew it, it was the day before the inquiry. He hadn’t seen Ruth again, but they had spoken every night on the phone. The conversations were long, and varied from casual and light flirting to the seriousness of the coming investigation into his career, and everything in between. Those conversations kept Harry sane. He swung between total paralysing fear that he could lose Ruth all over again, the hope that at least he had time to change it, and the feeling that this situation was completely crazy. Most days he lived with all three emotions.

That evening, he went to walk Scarlet and when he came back he knew something was wrong. There was nothing to say someone had broken into his house, the door was perfectly locked as he left it but he had a sixth sense that someone was inside. Spook sense. He tightened his grip on Scarlet’s lead, wishing he had a weapon of some description.

He unlocked the door, looking into the darkness warily. Very slowly he walked into the house. “Harry, it’s only me.” He relaxed slightly at Ruth’s familiar voice, but was still wary.  
“Ruth?”

“I didn’t turn the light on, just in case you were still being watched,” she said quietly. Harry switched the light on in the living room and saw Ruth sitting on the arm chair, smiling at him slightly.

Before anyone could say anything Scarlet whined, pulling at the lead. Harry let go, and the dog raced to Ruth, panting happily. Ruth smiled, and petted her. “She’s gorgeous,” she said quietly.

“What are you doing here Ruth?” he asked. She looked up at him, clearly hurt. “Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he said. “Of course I am.” She smiled, stood up and kissed him. He was surprised, but after a moment he responded eagerly as she pressed herself up against him.

“Mm,” he murmured, his hands on her back, pulling her close as they kept kissing. She felt exquisitely good. “Why are you here?” he whispered in between kisses.

“I needed to see you,” she said. She buried her head into his chest as he stroked her back softly, reassuringly.

“I wanted to see you too,” he said, smiling into her hair. She sighed heavily.

“I’m worried about tomorrow.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said. She closed her eyes and kissed him again, passionate and intense. A kiss that was leading somewhere. “Ruth?” She ignored that and carried on, her fingers sliding under his coat and pushing it off until it fell to the floor. “Ruth, slow down,” he said. She drew back and looked at him in confusion. “Ruth, are you… is this heading where I think it’s heading?”

“Probably,” she said, her blue eyes gazing into his. “It depends on what you’re thinking.”

“Ruth, after what you said the other day…”

“Harry,” she interrupted. “I want a relationship with you. I don’t want us to be tip toeing around each other or whatever it is we’ve been doing for the last few years. I don’t want to hesitate any longer, I want everything. I just want you.”

“Ruth,” he said quietly, not entirely sure what to say to that. She didn’t wait. She leaned forward and kissed him again. Harry stroked her hair gently and then froze as she started unbuttoning his shirt. “Ruth, you need to promise me that you won’t run from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said surely. “I promise.”

* * *

 

Harry awoke early and opened his eyes, fearing that last night had been a dream. It hadn’t. His eyes settled on Ruth’s sleeping figure, wrapped carelessly in a sheet and he smiled. Whatever happened in the future, he would always have the memory of last night to hold onto. He now knew how it felt to hold her, to love her and to kiss her with all the love he had. And it had been perfectly wonderful. Her hair was in messy tangles on the white pillowcase, her face relaxed and peaceful. 

Last night had been amazing, and in ways he hadn’t expected. He had thought that Ruth would be shy and reserved when it came to sex but he’d been very wrong. He ached to touch her, but he didn’t want to wake her. He turned over and looked at the clock. Six thirty in the morning, and he had to be at the inquiry by nine. Plenty of time to lay down and watch Ruth sleep contentedly. At least for a few more minutes.

He did, then he smiled as she rubbed a hand over her face, beginning to wake. “Oh,” she groaned to herself.

“Morning,” he said. Her eyes popped open, she turned to him and smiled happily.

“So that really happened last night?” she asked.

“Yes,” Harry said, beginning to worry. “Why?”

“I wondered if I dreamt it,” she said.

Harry decided to pull at that line of thought. “Do you often dream of us making love?” he asked, voice low and seductive.

“Oh, only every night,” she said.

“Every night?”

“Mm,” she agreed. She leaned close to him and gave him a good morning kiss. 

“Ruth, what changed?” he asked. “After our dinner date, with what you said… That you didn’t want to be used for sex, and then last night came out of nowhere.”

“I reacted wrongly,” she said. “I just… it’s true, I don’t want to be used for sex, but between us it’s _always_ going to be more than that. Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he assured her. “It is. Of course it is.”

She nodded and curled into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. She wrapped her legs around one of his and it felt wonderful. To be this close and connected to her. Ruth moved her face so she could kiss him, long and lingering.

Ruth sighed heavily when they parted. “I’m worried about today.”

“It will be fine,” Harry said. He spoke with such certainty that she looked at him, confused.

“Have you got a crystal ball?” she asked. “How can you possibly know that?”

“I have faith,” he said.

“And I never thought you had an optimistic outlook on life,” she said.

“Well, everything looks brighter this morning.”

“Are you always this happy after sex?”

“After sex with you, well…” he started. “Maybe we’ll have to repeat it and find out.” She smiled at him, before looking at the clock.

“I have to go home,” she said.

“Why?”

“I need to shower and grab a change of clothes,” she said. “I’m not going to this thing wearing yesterdays clothes.”

“That’s fair,” he said. “I just don’t want you to go.” Ruth smiled at that before getting out of bed. Harry watched appreciatively, her naked figure beautiful in the early morning light through the window. She started to get dressed and he sighed with disappointment as she covered up. She smirked at him, as if reading his mind. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said quietly.

“I thought you liked the way I look at you,” he said, teasing lightly.

“I do,” she said. “But not when I have to leave. And I’m nervous for today.”

“It will be fine,” he said. She nodded, leaned across the bed and kissed him slowly. 

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

“Mm,” he replied, caressing her lips with his own. “Bye.” Harry stayed still until she’d left the house, the alarm worryingly silent as she opened the door. Of course, he’d never set it. Ruth had distracted him. Thinking about the wonderful distraction was a bad idea. He had to be focused today, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Ruth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you think. Should Harry confide in Ruth? Thank you for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next week, Harry and Ruth barely even spoke, though not for lack of trying. Every day Ruth insisted on being present at the inquiry, even though a lot of it was boring and irrelevant. They were both aware of the fact their relationship was coming under scrutiny from the panel, so they hardly spoke in public, and when they did it was strained, because they knew they could be being overheard. But as well as spending her days at the inquiry, she was also refusing to fall behind at work, which left her with long evenings spent on the grid. They had shared a few late night phone calls, but they were both tired from the pressure of the inquiry, so they didn’t speak as freely as usual.

It was with relief that the final day of the inquiry approached. Whichever way they decided, she’d stop worrying, and her relationship could resume from where they’d unfortunately left off.

Ruth found herself tossing and turning sleeplessly, the night before. She was far too worried. At midnight her phone rang. It was with only a mild annoyance that she answered it, an annoyance which vanished when she heard Harry’s voice.

“Can’t sleep either?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I know it’s late but I haven’t seen you in so long. Not properly. Can I come over?”

“You’re already outside aren’t you?” she said, knowing him too well.

“Well, at least I didn’t break in, like you did to my house.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “Hang on, I’ll just unlock the door and disable the alarm.” She ended the call and hurried to the door of her flat, typing in the number to the alarm before opening the door. She smiled at Harry, so immediate and solid in front of her. Before she could finish drinking him in with her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and she sighed into his chest. He felt so warm and solid and real and as she breathed in, she could smell that wonderful Harry scent. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

“So have I,” he said, kissing the top of her head. He stroked her hair, his palm going down her neck, then her arm until he held her hand gently. They still stood in the doorway and Ruth backed up a few steps, so Harry could close the door.

“Are you staying here tonight?” she asked. He looked at her, wondering if she didn’t want him to. “So I can set the alarm,” she elaborated. 

“Oh,” he said. “Yes. Set the alarm.” She smiled slightly, and moved away from him to lock up the house. When she’d done that, Harry kissed her gently, and she smiled into the embrace.

“Did you remove Sharecropper?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “Away from the grid computers. He’s in the south of France now with no internet or phone access, so he can’t be traced, and his _body_ will be found in his London house tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said.

“Are you going to tell me why you wanted an asset moved with no record of it?” she asked. “An asset who has been retired since the eighties.”

“I can’t,” he said. “It’s dangerous. It’s just… all for the best if Max is out of the country for a while.” Until this is over, he thought to himself.

“Okay,” she said. “I won’t pry.” He was grateful for the fact she’d curbed her curiosity, but he knew he wouldn’t get away with it once he was back at work. He was going to have to tread very carefully. He kissed her again, trying to drive unpleasant thoughts out of his head. He grunted as Ruth suddenly reached for him and began to stroke him through his trousers. “Bed?” she suggested. Harry needed little persuasion.

* * *

 

He awoke at six in the morning. He always slept poorly in a bed that wasn’t his own, even with the attraction of Ruth next to him. His mind was racing about the enquiry, the Russians and all that was coming in the unpleasantly near future. Even with Ruth sleeping peacefully next to him, he felt agitated. After a minute or two, he went to have a shower. He knew Ruth wouldn’t mind and he hoped the running water wouldn’t rouse her.

It didn’t. Harry dressed quietly, his eyes on the figure in the bed, more so than what he was actually doing. The sheet had slipped off of her, and one breast was revealed. He felt a lump in his throat at the impossibility in front of him. He had to change things, because if he didn’t, their life together would be completely robbed from them both. This brief time of having her in his life like this would be gone.

He put his jacket on, then stood simply watching her. Was this how it would always be? That he’d always want more with her? A few weeks ago when life had been turned upside down for him, and Ruth had walked into his house, all he wanted was to see her for a few more hours. To appreciate her company that he now had the chance. Then he’d wanted to kiss her and fantasised about what it would be to spend a night with her. Now he’d done that several times, and he still wanted more. He didn’t want there to be a time limit with Ruth. He wanted it all, and he wondered (if he managed to avoid catastrophe) would that ever change. Would he always want more? 

If he lost her again, he wasn’t entirely sure that he could cope. Especially now that their relationship had developed intimately. He shook his head and then leaned over the bed to kiss her good morning. She sleepily responded and smiled into the embrace. “I have to go,” he said quietly.

“Oh, it’s early,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “I’ll see you at the inquiry?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” she said. “Good luck.”

Harry nodded, kissed her cheek and then left her flat, to go and get changed into some fresh clothes, before picking up the Tourmaline drop he knew was waiting for him.

* * *

 

Everything went exactly as he remembered until he got to the inquiry and the verdict. When he mentioned the report on Ruth’s many (professional) qualities, he could feel Ruth’s eyes burning through the back of his skull. He tried to resist looking at her, but he had to look at her once. Her lips turned up in a slight smile at him, before her face returned to seriousness and Harry turned towards the panel.

“We’ve come to a decision regarding your actions with regards to the Albany affair. You are clearly very experienced, as your history speaks for itself. You will be reinstated with the provision that you keep Erin Watts as your section head. We are still concerned with the close relationship between yourself and Miss Evershed. You are both accomplished in your respective fields, but we feel that it would be unwise for you to both work in the same section continually. So we will be requiring transfer papers to a different section for either one of you by the end of the year, so that this unfortunate situation doesn’t occur again.” Harry was expected to say something, but he was so surprised by the result that he couldn’t get his jaw to work. He gave himself a mental shake.

“Thank you for your time,” he said, trying to get his mind to work. A general hubbub of conversation broke out and Harry rose from his chair, dreading seeing the look on Ruth’s face. When he looked at her, he saw her staring at him, face white and shocked.

* * *

 

They were in the car, being driven back to the grid and Ruth still hadn’t spoken. “Talk to me?”

“I’ve just lost my job,” she said. “Through no fault of my own.”

“No, Ruth,” he said quietly. “You haven’t.”

“But they said…”

“I’ll retire,” he said. “I’m not going to let you lose your job because of my choices. It isn’t fair.”

“But you can’t just retire,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual.

“My time is coming,” he said quietly. “I know that, and I think if you were being honest with yourself, you know that too. The service is changing, and me and my kind are being rooted out.” She reached across the seat and gripped his hand.

“This wasn’t the result I wanted,” she said sadly.

“We have time.”

“Only a few months,” she said. “It’s not enough.”

No, he thought to himself. It isn’t enough time. Not nearly enough. They fell into silence, contemplating the events of the morning. But Harry had thought of something else. Apparently it was possible to change events that weren’t solely within his control. And that was a very hopeful thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More soon, and thanks for reading so far. Let me know what you think.


End file.
